Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Glamorous Life: A Tasteful Vignette

It was only after I reached Portland yesterday that I realized I had passed through four time zones in a little more than twenty-four hours; a new personal record. I was standing, but my body felt as though it had been neatly and expertly de-boned like a turkey galantine.

My brain, which is congenitally befogged on the best of days, was on the verge of shutting down. I woke twice in the night, confused, in a cold sweat. Happily my custom of leaving bedside notes for myself prevented a full-blown panic attack and unmanly screams that might have summoned the police.

The third time I woke, it was to (as Sister Mary Cynthia used delicately to put it) visit the gentlemen's private accommodation. I was perhaps twenty percent awake, the room was dark, and I felt in my head (as I always do on the first night ashore) the delicate rocking that suggested I slept yet in the luxurious bosom of Mother Cunard.

So I padded over to where the bathroom was in my cabin on the Queen Mary 2; and it was only when by happy chance a sleeve brushed my face that I came to full awareness and narrowly avoided having a hearty pee into the shoes on the floor of my closet at the Red Lion Inn.

I got some really good advice from a tour guide in the Netherlands on jet lag. First, stay up until a close to regular bedtime. Keep moving until then and drink an insane amount of water (try to avoid caffienated beverages). It did work for me and even my Mom didn't have as much trouble as she usually does.

Some really good comments, but the one thing to pack is a night light. Hotel/motel bathrooms don't have dimmer switches and the OR lighting is enough to light a runway, making it even more impossible to sleep (well) in a strange bed. But a bitty night light with the door almost closed - just the ticket. After all, if you pee in your shoes while on the road, you have to go barefoot next day. Not a good thing.

Don't you just love jet lag.....at least there were no stairs to fall down as you groped for the loo in the wrong direction....Can't wait for our Queen Victoria cruise in November...16 days at sea. OMG...what was the nakme of that dessert again????????

Having been a road warrior in the past, this is so true. And thank you for sharing your blog with us. It is always a delight to read. We can just envision you, Harry and Dorothy on your escapades. Have fun at Sock Summit.

When one of my brothers was three years old (he is currently 50), my mom heard the pitter patter of little feet one night and found him sleepwalking in the kitchen, about to let loose into the refrigerator.

Thankfully she got there in time. Having a girl, I'm not really anticipating this problem.

Good thing your shoes were spared. I remember waking my son after he had fallen asleep on the couch and telling him to go up to bed. We caught him in the laundry room about to sit on the laundry basket thinking it was the toilet!

On my first trip to London, I was so incredibly jet lagged I walked half-asleep into my flat's bathroom and promptly smacked the bridge of my nose into the door jamb. I still have the scar and no, hilarity did not ensue.

One night eldest son got up "to use the facilities"and instead of turning right and lifting the toilet seat, he turned left and raised the clothes hamper lid.He never woke up. (And I didn't have the heart to wake him. But I heard him.) Next morning was laundry day anyway,

Oh, and also...your post reminds me of a story from my first boyfriend where apparently, as a boy, he sleepwalked into his oldest brother's bedroom and "heartily peed" into the garbage can there. Said brother's reaction was apparently a bleary, "Dave? What are you doing in....argh!"

Welcome back and thanks for the laugh! I bet that'll be your favorite shirt from now on.

I'm wondering - I think you may have been on the same trip on the QE2 as David Lebovitz of http://www.davidlebovitz.com/, his A Taste of Paris blog, because he's been posting from the ship and this morning now he tells of its entry into NYC...

I have to ask - were you and David Lebovitz on the same cuise liner? I don't think he would be one of the aforementioned New York queens, since he's been living in Paris for the last umpty-mumble years, and it's hard to tell dates from blog posts, but the timing is just so similar! That would be a heck of a blogger intersection :D

Oh Franklin, this is too wild. My two favorite sites to read -- yours and David Lebovitz's -- both of you were on the same boat at the same time crossing the Atlantic. That was a bit twilight zonish for my morning reading. Do you know each other? You should you are both totally delightful. Here's his blog address incase you haven't checked him out yet.

Lucky you. The last time I had a hotel misadventure like that I broke my left little toe and ripped the top ligament off. My toe doesn't curl up any more, only down. I think perhaps urine soaked shoes would be an acceptable trade off...? But in any case, I'm glad your shoes are dry and your toes are intact!

Husband and I took the QE2 from New York to Southampton several years ago. I was really miffed to find that, due to the lose-an-hour-a-day business, we arrived in London just as jetlagged as if we'd been on BA's flying cattle car.

Love the sock, can't wait to see Canine! How did the tessellations class go? Hoping it was an enormous success and you had so much fun that you're going to offer it again somewhere sometime soon... and that I can get in next time...

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